eyes, leaning his head back against the seat briefly before sitting up again. "Well, no harm done. Honk the horn, and let's get moving."
Lora obediently honked the horn, then when the cow didn't budge honked it again. The cow flicked her ears forward, an expression of interest briefly lighting her eyes. When nothing else happened,, she apparently dismissed the sound as unimportant. Her attention shifted to her fellow cows, who had been lunching by the roadside and were now wandering over to see what was going on. All the while, she remained planted solidly in the middle of the road, calmly digesting her lunch.
"Now what?" Lora asked.
"Now you get out there and shoo her away."
"You must be joking." Lora turned to look at him, aghast. He was grinning—strange how that grin altered his whole face, changing him instantaneously from a ferocious looking criminal to someone who looked like he could, with no effort at all, charm the birds off the trees, or in this case the cow out of the road.
"Nope." The laconic reply made Lora shake her head vigorously.
"You do it. I'm afraid of cows."
"A Kansas farm girl, and you're afraid of cows? Come on."
"I am. One chased me once when I was a little girl and I had to climb a tree to get away from it. It stood underneath mooing and shaking its head until my grandfather came looking for me and chased it away. I hate cows."
"Too bad."
Before Lora knew what was happening, he had leaned over, opening her door and thrusting her out of the car before slamming the door shut again and locking it. She scratched frantically for the handle, pleading for admittance. The sadistic swine heaved his big body over into the driver's seat and rolled the window down about an inch.
"This pays you back for the rooster."
"That wasn't my fault—I only laughed—oh, please, oh, no, oh, please open the door!"
This last was a near shriek, uttered because the cow, finally seeing something of interest to investigate, started to move— right toward Lora. Lora gave up trying to get into the car, moving frantically around the back as the cow, both ears pricked forward, followed. The other cows, interested by this new game, came swarming up the bank to join in. Lora ran to the passenger door, moaning with fear, and tugged desperately at its handle as the whole herd of cows trotted after her. To her relief, the handle gave. She jerked the door open and dove inside, slamming the door almost on the intrigued cow's nose as she sank into the seat to the accompaniment of uproarious laughter.
"Bastard," she said feelingly as the car moved forward— smoothly, of course, since he was driving. Casting him a venomous look, she again thought longingly of blunt objects. How she would like to bash in that unfeeling black head…
"Ho, ho, for a girl who's afraid of cows you handled that pretty well. Sort of reminded me of the Pied Piper…"
"Oh, shut up."
"Nasty, nasty…" He shook his head in mock reproof. "I bet you don't say that to Brian."
"You're not Brian," Lora retorted, glaring, and then had to grin herself. She was willing to bet that she had looked pretty funny, dancing around the back of the Volkswagen with a whole herd of curious cows trailing behind.
"You're pretty when you smile."
It was an offhand remark, sort of thrown at her, and it took Lora a moment to catch it. Then she looked at him, her expression a mixture of pleasure and wariness. He was concentrating on the smooth blacktop surface of the road, his hands competent on the wheel, his big body jacknifed into the little space like the folded insert in one of those cards with punchlines that pop out. His eyes were narrowed against the sun that beat down through the window, finding reddish glints in the bristles on his chin and in the silky mustache that matched the ones in the rough black curls at his nape that the sun just touched. He looked completely unaware of having paid her a compliment, and Lora had to replay the words carefully in her mind to
Lora obediently honked the horn, then when the cow didn't budge honked it again. The cow flicked her ears forward, an expression of interest briefly lighting her eyes. When nothing else happened,, she apparently dismissed the sound as unimportant. Her attention shifted to her fellow cows, who had been lunching by the roadside and were now wandering over to see what was going on. All the while, she remained planted solidly in the middle of the road, calmly digesting her lunch.
"Now what?" Lora asked.
"Now you get out there and shoo her away."
"You must be joking." Lora turned to look at him, aghast. He was grinning—strange how that grin altered his whole face, changing him instantaneously from a ferocious looking criminal to someone who looked like he could, with no effort at all, charm the birds off the trees, or in this case the cow out of the road.
"Nope." The laconic reply made Lora shake her head vigorously.
"You do it. I'm afraid of cows."
"A Kansas farm girl, and you're afraid of cows? Come on."
"I am. One chased me once when I was a little girl and I had to climb a tree to get away from it. It stood underneath mooing and shaking its head until my grandfather came looking for me and chased it away. I hate cows."
"Too bad."
Before Lora knew what was happening, he had leaned over, opening her door and thrusting her out of the car before slamming the door shut again and locking it. She scratched frantically for the handle, pleading for admittance. The sadistic swine heaved his big body over into the driver's seat and rolled the window down about an inch.
"This pays you back for the rooster."
"That wasn't my fault—I only laughed—oh, please, oh, no, oh, please open the door!"
This last was a near shriek, uttered because the cow, finally seeing something of interest to investigate, started to move— right toward Lora. Lora gave up trying to get into the car, moving frantically around the back as the cow, both ears pricked forward, followed. The other cows, interested by this new game, came swarming up the bank to join in. Lora ran to the passenger door, moaning with fear, and tugged desperately at its handle as the whole herd of cows trotted after her. To her relief, the handle gave. She jerked the door open and dove inside, slamming the door almost on the intrigued cow's nose as she sank into the seat to the accompaniment of uproarious laughter.
"Bastard," she said feelingly as the car moved forward— smoothly, of course, since he was driving. Casting him a venomous look, she again thought longingly of blunt objects. How she would like to bash in that unfeeling black head…
"Ho, ho, for a girl who's afraid of cows you handled that pretty well. Sort of reminded me of the Pied Piper…"
"Oh, shut up."
"Nasty, nasty…" He shook his head in mock reproof. "I bet you don't say that to Brian."
"You're not Brian," Lora retorted, glaring, and then had to grin herself. She was willing to bet that she had looked pretty funny, dancing around the back of the Volkswagen with a whole herd of curious cows trailing behind.
"You're pretty when you smile."
It was an offhand remark, sort of thrown at her, and it took Lora a moment to catch it. Then she looked at him, her expression a mixture of pleasure and wariness. He was concentrating on the smooth blacktop surface of the road, his hands competent on the wheel, his big body jacknifed into the little space like the folded insert in one of those cards with punchlines that pop out. His eyes were narrowed against the sun that beat down through the window, finding reddish glints in the bristles on his chin and in the silky mustache that matched the ones in the rough black curls at his nape that the sun just touched. He looked completely unaware of having paid her a compliment, and Lora had to replay the words carefully in her mind to
Similar Books
